Newport – Day 1 …. geese, taking an old Marine back to base after 50 years and a sunset dinner.

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There were two things I couldn’t ignore about Newport, Rhode Island when we visited last month.

First?

The wind. It blew a gale force, every minute of every day, everywhere we went. Seriously, it put Chicago to shame and must be the windiest place on earth. Temps were in the 50’s but rarely felt like it. I brought one scarf and wore it every day. My hair spray screamed uncle. It was nuts.

Second?

The Canada geese. In every field, on every lawn, by the edge of all the highways and on every median strip. You might see three, or three dozen, or three hundred, but see them you will. And watch where you walk, because where there are geese there is … well, goose 💩.

Copious amounts of goose 💩.

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After we settled into the resort, the first thing my husband wanted to do was tour his old duty station.

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I’d never been there, so after clearing the security gate… we drove.

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Past a lovely marina.

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And the Admiral’s quarters.

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With the ever present bridge in the background.

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Did I mention there were geese?

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We drove past a giant anchor.

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And the Naval War College.

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And yes, more geese.

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The husband was searching for his old Marine Corps barracks, where this picture was taken in 1976.

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Husband is on the right, receiving a commendation for saving a young man’s life.

❤️

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We found a big red Marine Corps ball, but couldn’t locate the barracks.

I know he really wanted to chat with someone about his time there in the mid ‘70’s, but there were no Marines to be seen. The office was closed, as was the military museum.

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He recognized a few buildings.

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But so much had changed.

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Vowing to go back again another day, we made our way to Newport’s famed waterfront for dinner.

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The sun was beginning to set on The Reef and we were more than ready to relax.

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The restaurant looked nice…

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And even from the bar where my husband always wants to sit, the view was lovely.

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My spiced cranberry Sangria was perfect.

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As was the husband’s local beer (Whalers Rise APA) and butternut squash soup.

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My coconut shrimp appetizer was tasty but things went straight downhill with our entrees.

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I opted for the wild mushroom risotto which was beyond horrible and literally crunched. Not what one looks for in a risotto. I didn’t photograph the husband’s salmon but it was equally as awful and sent back as well.

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Shame, because the location was wonderful.

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And the sunset just about perfect.

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Bet you didn’t even know I was gone.

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On a miserably wet morning two and a half weeks ago …. the husband and I took off on a trip.

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Roughly 4 hours later we crossed a bridge….

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And reached our vacation destination.

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Newport, Rhode Island.

The smallest state.

Home to the Americas Cup and Narragansett beer.

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Newport is old and full of maritime history. Founded in 1639, it was an important trading port for the British colonies. After the Civil War, the Gilded Age rich chose its beautiful coast as a site for their “summer cottages” … by which I mean American castles. Today, tourists flock to its beaches and vibrant waterfront shopping and dining areas.

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Newport is surrounded by water.

And lighthouses.

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And criss crossed with bridges.

It’s also home to the Naval War College where my Marine Corps husband was stationed 50 years ago.

This walk down memory lane trip was part of my birthday gift to him.

Our digs for the week? A Wyndham resort on Long Wharf.

Internet photo.

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My photos.

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Though we had a two bedroom, two bath unit it was smaller than most of our timeshare condos.

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With a seriously ugly color palette.

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But it was clean and quiet.

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With a Narragansett Bay view.

In the background, to the right.

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After unpacking, we left our home base and started exploring.

( to be continued, sequentially and ad nauseam… so be prepared for photo bombs lasting into May )

😉

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Go for the beer, stay for the food.

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Friday dawned sunny and relatively warm so the husband and I jumped in the car for a drive to the mountains.

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Heading west to try a new brewery that had popped up since our last visit.

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And while the hilltops were free of snow, the lakes were still frozen.

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Our destination was Steam Mill Brewing which had a colorful tasting room.

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And a comfortable, laid back western vibe.

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We did a few tastings but weren’t overly impressed with the beer.

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But my Rogue Angel – Titos, elderflower cordial, grapefruit juice, soda water and orange bitters – hit the spot.

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Crab cakes with Cajun remoulade and truffle aoili? OMG. To die for. Some of the best I’ve ever had… and they are always my go to app.

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Husband’s French onion soup? Dark, rich and full of sherry. Yum.

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The vaguely spider like overhead lighting was bizarre.

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But my veal, beef and pork bolognese and his mixed green salad with grilled chicken and warm maple vinaigrette were amazing.

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The town was also running a cocktail competition that, had I lived there, I would have been all over. Bar hop 11 places and taste test their cocktails? Sign me up.

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Naturally I tried Steam Mill’s entry… which, while tasty, was down right deadly.

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On our way out, the rest rooms provided a few laughs.

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Then it was back over the mountains for a scenic drive home.

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A good time was had by all.

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News you can’t use.

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Useless and never ending. This describes my blog site perfectly.

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That’s a very large rat.

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Way to go Carolina.

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I know airline food is bad, but how hungry do you have to be to eat beads?

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As well she should.

😡

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Trust me, if we’re talking about Trump?

It has everything to do with sucking.

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I admit to being clueless about this as well.

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What does the “Pooh” mean in Winnie The Pooh?

“ …..a book by Winnie The Pooh author AA Milne called When We Were Very Young. 

The 1924 book of poetry, which predated the Winnie The Pooh stories, contained an introduction from the author which reads: “Christopher Robin, who feeds this swan in the mornings, has given him the name of ‘Pooh.’”

This is a very fine name for a swan, because, if you call him and he doesn’t come (which is a thing swans are good at), then you can pretend that you were just saying ‘Pooh!’ to show how little you wanted him.”

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Mystery solved.

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I completely forgot about the Hands Off rally held this past Saturday. I wanted to go, but am glad my local peeps represented with some snappy Maine-centric signs.

😊

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What we could take but probably won’t… part two.

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There are two lovely pieces from my father’s family home in England that we could take to the Roadshow if our entry is chosen…

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One is a gorgeous little clock we keep on our mantle.

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But while pretty, it’s not unusual or of unknown value.

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£1,400 in 2014 is £2,003.12 today, which converts to $2,591.49 US… so not bad. But not mysterious enough for the Roadshow.

The other is a silver plated cigarette box that family lore says was purchased at auction for a relief fund during WWI.

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The sides have the allied leaders…

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The top a battle scene with a Rudyard Kipling quote.

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Personally I love the paw feet.

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They’ve sold for under $500 and while an interesting historical piece, it isn’t on my Roadshow list.

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By request…

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A fellow blogger saw a weird news item online and naturally thought of me. I’m not sure that’s a compliment, but if the shoe fits?

Write a post about it.

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No, this isn’t a joke.

It happened.

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Clearly this monkey used to listen to Stephen Stills.

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Admittedly, the deer looks less than thrilled.

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Damn, I hope not.

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There’s riding…

And then there’s riding.

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You’re welcome.

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Random nonsense.

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Remember a while back when we stopped at that wonderful old general store in New Hampshire?

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Well, I finally got around to baking that bread and it was fabulous.

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Crusty and dense,…. with a big slab of butter, it was almost a meal in itself.

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Our recent dusting of snow left evidence of critter visitation overnight.

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And how cute is that.

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The verdict is in, you should get a cat.

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But not this one.

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As tax time looms, I’m just going to drop these charts.

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If they don’t make you grit your teeth, nothing will.

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I do.

I really do…

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🥴

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Be careful.

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My loyal readers are well aware of my dislike of the growing AI trend. And while I agree it may be helpful in certain applications, I fear we set it free among the general public at our peril.

So in that curmudgeon spirit, I’m just going to drop this article here in case anyone is interested.

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Moral of the story?

Keep talking to your toaster, it’s safer.

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